Free CABERNET ZIN (Cabernet Zin Wine Country) by J Gordon Smith Page A

up the oil drain, spun on a new filter, and filled the engine with fresh oil. He started the car and let it run to distribute the new oil before shutting it down and closing the hood. He jacked the car off the stands and pulled them and the blocks out from under the car then eased the vehicle to the floor. Zack squirted hand cleanser on his fingers and rubbed them clean with a fresh shop rag. Lydia pulled her car in and got out as Zack slid the stands under the bench where he stored them. Zack asked, “Decided against dinner with your mother?”
    “Yeah,” Lydia yanked at the nearly full canvas work bag and trudged toward the door.
    Zack wiped under his nails, “Hey, didn’t you leave with a black and red shirt on? I haven’t seen this blue one.”
    “Uh … I spilled salad dressing on it at lunch.”
    “If I were more suspicious I’d think you’re having an affair.”
    Lydia’s phone buzzed. She snapped it out of her purse. Lydia saw Nicholas’ text setting up a time for tomorrow. She couldn’t do that so soon. “Yeah, right … Work stuff.” She typed a quick response. As she tucked her phone back in her purse she asked, “Hey, did you get the mail?” She pulled opened the door to the house.
    “In a little while,” Zack.
    “I want to know when you’re going to do it. Nothing gets done around here unless I lead you by the nose.”
    “It’s just the damn mail,” Zack said, hanging the rag on a hook.
    “I’m waiting for the monthly investment summary.”
    “It will be the same if we get it tomorrow.”
    “I asked you to do it and you’re not. Please! Go check the mail.” the door boomed hollow when it closed.
    Zack walked to the mailbox. He found a pair of bills and a raft of advertising but no investment summary. He came in and sorted everything into the appropriate spots and heard Lydia in the other room raising her voice again, directed at Grace, “Where are your glasses?”
    Grace mumbled something.
    Zack looked in the pantry. He sighed and reached for the spaghetti noodle box.
    “Grace, did you look in your room?”
    Zack put a pot of water on the stove to heat the noodles and turned the water up to boil.
    Grace scampered off.
    Lydia yelled after her, “I can’t believe your father isn’t helping me look for them. He should be keeping track of those glasses. I spent all my time taking you to the store.”
    Zack twisted the top off a jar of spaghetti sauce to pour over the noodles when done. That with a side of green beans from a can. He walked into the living room, “Why so toxic?”
    “What do you mean?” Lydia’s nostrils flared.
    “You’ve got Grace running in fear and Noah is hiding in his room drawing. I don’t really want to be out here either. I felt good after getting the car maintenance done and I considered making tacos with scratch made tortillas for dinner but as soon as you rolled in you started yelling and demanding. So we’re having spaghetti and cold green beans out of the can.”
    “What kind of dinner is that? I work all day and no one says thank you.”
    “Well, thank you.”
    “Did you get the mail?”
    “Screw the mail. Yes. And the updated financial summary didn’t arrive.”
    Lydia flopped on the couch, “Why can’t you keep track of our daughter’s glasses?”
    “The kids need some responsibility and we have today and tomorrow to find them.”
    “They could be anywhere. I spent all my time getting those glasses.”
    “I know – you remind us frequently.”
    “I can’t understand how, when you are home all day, nothing gets done.”
    “Did you see me working on the car in the garage when you got home?”
    “Is that what you were doing?”
    “Yes. Changing the oil. Checking the engine over to make sure it’s still running reliably.”
    “If you want to make such a big deal about it, that it’s such a hardship, why don’t you take it in to get serviced?”
    “Maybe. Maybe I need something to take my mind off this constant snippy bickering